


Fall for a Shooting Star

by tanktrilby



Category: Gintama
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5638054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanktrilby/pseuds/tanktrilby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ahaha,” said Sakamoto, feeling like he missed something. “You’ve grown smaller, Takasugi.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall for a Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cloudclips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudclips/gifts).



> "takasugi never stood a chance" well fuck you too

“Ahaha,” said Sakamoto, feeling like he missed something. “You’ve grown smaller, Takasugi.”

“Ignore him,” Mutsu said. They’d been having their ship’s annual cook-off when the Kiheitai had shown up on the radar, and under normal circumstances that would’ve meant Takasugi glowering more than usual and refusing to speak until Sakamoto had finished throwing up- the man had the patience of a saint, thought Sakamoto, already on his seventh sick bag. (In his defense, the Kiheitai’s ship was really claustrophobic, and he’d eaten a lot of udon.)

Instead they got the Kiheitai notably lacking their aura of gloom, and Takasugi wearing a yukata several sizes too big for him, looking dwarfed, for the first time, by his surroundings.

“It’s not that pressing of an issue,” said Takasugi’s friend with the guitar.

“It absolutely is!” shouted the pretty blonde. “Look at him, he’s nothing like Shinsuke-sama! How is he supposed to lead the Kiheitai like this? He’s twelve years old!”

“I’m seventeen, actually,” said Takasugi.

He looked at Sakamoto with both his clear green eyes. Those creases between them were gone, and the sweep of his hair had been chopped off gracelessly, making him look terribly young.

“I see you’ve been doing well, Tatsuma. Running around like an idiot in space, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“So you do recognize him,” said the quiet one. “Maybe you weren’t lying about being seventeen.”

“Of course I wasn’t-”

“Of course he wasn’t!” Sakamoto said. He took a step forward and threw an arm around Takasugi’s shoulders, feeling them hunch further before they finally relaxed, for the first time since he’d seen him. “He was way shorter than this before he was sixteen, unbelievable huh? Barely came up to my waist, ahaha!”

“Oi, do you want me to kill you?”

“Hey, Mutsu, get them some udon! We’ve got a growing boy onboard!”

The Kiheitai made noises of dissent. Sakamoto kept laughing. His stomach was surging up in protest but Takasugi was wonderfully steady next to him, not elbowing his side or shrugging him off, slight and strong and familiar. “When an old friend comes to visit, you’ve got to treat him to your mom’s best cooking, you know! It’s the samurai’s way!”

“We’ve been here loads of times and you couldn’t wait to get rid of us then,” said the blonde, but Sakamoto had started throwing up so no one was really paying attention.

*

“There was an alien device-” Bansai said.

Mutsu nodded. “I see.”

“It wasn’t supposed to blow up,” Bansai added.

“That’s only reasonable.”

“Anyway, the specialists say the reverse cell-aging should wear off in a couple of weeks. They hope. There’s surprisingly little research on the subject. I would have thought Amanto technology would be more foolproof.”

Mutsu said, “Well, why bring him here? Why pretend we’re all buddies?”

Bansai looked at her. “He’s seventeen. The last thing he remembers is leading troops into a battle he fought against the Amanto. He’s about as much of a terrorist right now as you are.”

Mutsu saw the problem.

“But you know, Takasugi’s in the prime of his life, ahaha,” said Sakamoto, wiping his mouth. “When I was that age I’d have jumped onboard if someone asked if I wanted to be a terrorist. Every boy dreams of making a few business deals with aliens, you know.”

“That’s just-” Mutsu began, but Bansai said, “You think we should have told him the truth about the outcome of the war?”

“Ahaha, who knows? All I know is that Takasugi’s got a lot of brains behind all that hair,” Sakamoto said, and reached for a new sick bag.

Bansai and Mutsu watched him, their thoughtful expressions tinged with disgust.

Then Mutsu blinked. “Where is he now?”

*

“I can’t believe present-you is trampling around in the Joui War,” Sakamoto said. “That’d be a shock for our younger-selves, huh? I bet he’s trying to take his pipe into battle, ahaha, what a loser!”

“For the last time, I’m not time-travelling,” Takasugi said. He was inhaling the curry udon at a rate that made Sakamoto feel queasy just watching, at the same time somehow managing not to spill a single drop. He ate quickly and efficiently like he was used to being both hungry and in a hurry. Sakamoto had given up competing with him two bowls ago.

“Ah, then Naruto will be here-”

“I didn’t clone myself either,” Takasugi said. “Seriously, how are you captaining a fleet like this? I pity your second-in-command.”

“Mutsu? She looks up to me to teach her everything I know about being captain. She’ll be a fine leader one day.”

“No, I’m sure she’s already way ahead of you.” Takasugi said. “She didn’t look like- maybe it was my imagination, but-”

“Ahaha, looks like you’re almost done there, Takasugi!” Sakamoto gestured at his bowl. “You should get seconds. Um, thirds?”

Takasugi looked unabashed. “The food is very good here.”

He got up to get another helping, and Grandma Yoshiko beamed when she saw him, beckoning him close. Takasugi went with that half-uncertain smile of his and came back with a serving bigger than anything Sakamoto had seen, topped with those prawns he’d begged for unsuccessfully just a few hours ago.

“Ahaha,” Sakamoto said as Takasugi settled back down, “everyone in this ship loves me, even if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes.”

“You give them too much trouble,” Takasugi said. He looked disapproving. “You really haven’t changed.”

Sakamoto thought he would add to that, but Takasugi had turned to his noodles and resumed packing them away with a thoughtful frown on his face.

That afternoon, they had a meeting to talk over a deal with a group of Gagrackakan merchants about exporting those clicky-pen things that were such a big hit on their planet. Before they entered the ship, Mutsu pointedly shuffled her papers at Sakamoto.

“He’s fine,” she said.

“What?”

“You’re worried about Shinsuke, so you’re not concentrating properly,” Mutsu said. “Pay attention- Shinsuke is in good hands. And don’t make our clients angry, they excrete a chemical that’s toxic to humans when they’re distressed.”

“ _Toxic what?_ Ahaha, Mutsu, you’re joking, right? _Mutsu-”_

*

Takasugi visited him in the infirmary. “I brought you fruits,” he said, and put an apple on the table.

Sakamoto’s eyes watered. “Ahaha Takasugi, you’re not as much of a cold-hearted bastard as I thought you were! Sadly, I’m not able to eat anything just yet, but I’m happy you’re-”

“I know,” Takasugi said.

He produced a knife from his sleeve and began to peel the apple. “Get well soon,” he said unconvincingly.

“Ahaha, Takasugi, good one! You want me to kill you?”

Takasugi kept peeling. “Well? How’d it go?”

“You know, it actually wasn’t that bad, aside from-”

“Had fun with the Amanto bastards that took everything we stood for from us?”

Sakamoto grinned. His entire body felt bloated, rashes covering every inch of skin, infection setting in. Takasugi’s voice dripped with more venom than Sakamoto had currently running through his bloodstream.

“Ahaha, that was fast,” he said.

 _“Traitor,”_ Takasugi hissed, and the way he looked, and how he sounded like he could hardly stand what had happened, it all felt like it was a long time coming. Ten years, in fact; Sakamoto never got to say goodbye. He wondered what the Tatsuma from ten years ago would have done, if he’d known Takasugi looked like _this_ when he found out he was gone. Begged his way on to the first ship home, probably.

“Tell me when you’re ready to pick up your sword and face me like a samurai,” Takasugi said.

“Not happening anytime soon,” Sakamoto said, “ahaha. Those Gagrackakans really got me. And do you know, they’re opening up a new route from Earth to their planet in return? Travelling back and forth is going to be so easy!”

Takasugi narrowed his eyes. “And?”

“And it’s a link, Takasugi, a link! It’s going to be ordinary people using those routes, and that’s how a planet gets allies. The politicians can talk about treaties all they want, and all that happens is that everyone’s unhappy and no one knows what’s really going on, so why not make friends the old way- by meeting them in person?”

“You’re complacent, Tatsuma.”

“Nah,” Sakamoto said, and Takasugi looked arrested, his face full of thought. “I’m just getting the best deal there is.”

Takasugi blinked. He looked like he was trying not to seem impressed. “Sounds like you, Tatsuma.”

*

“About your friend-” Mutsu said, the next time Sakamoto saw her.

“You mean Takasugi? Ahaha, isn’t he everyone’s friend? We’ve done business with him before.”

Mutsu gave him a hard, piercing stare. Sakamoto kept grinning.

“He likes you,” Mutsu said.

“Ahaha, Mutsu, don’t say those things. You know Takasugi doesn’t like anyone.”

“This one does.”

Sakamoto shook his head. “There’s no difference. This is just like a common cold, you know, it’ll go away soon enough, and we’ll have our prickly old bastard back.”

“Well, the crew likes him the way he is now,” Mutsu said. 

“You mean the way he used to be,” Sakamoto corrected. “Takasugi right now is one-eyed, like a pirate, ahaha, Mutsu, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

Sakamoto didn’t get used to seeing Takasugi -baby-faced and scowling- around the ship, and kept waiting for him to change back. He seemed to be the only one: the rest of the Kaientai loved him like they didn’t remember the bastard that nearly took out their entire fleet just a year ago, crowding around him and plying him with food and knickknacks from around the galaxy. It was almost nostalgic for Sakamoto, who still remembered all the girls who followed them around in the war like a second cavalry with what he personally thought was a reasonable amount of bitterness.

“Pathetic,” Mutsu pronounced, when he voiced this. She carefully put away her copies of the final accounts before she punched Sakamoto in the ribs, for emphasis.

“Shinsuke is very well-spoken,” said Yoshino-kun the Tax Guy. “And, well. Quiet.”

“And I’m not?!”

Yoshino-kun smiled and shrugged. “He’s really cool,” he said peaceably.

“What a nice young man,” said his grandmother, and that was that.

*

Afterwards, Sakamoto found Takasugi in the control room.

“Oh,” said Takasugi, visibly startled. “I’m sorry, I thought-”

 “Ahaha, it’s not like you’re worried about making trouble anyway,” Sakamoto said.

Takasugi raised an eyebrow. “That’s actually quite hurtful, Tatsuma, did you think I didn’t have the organization’s best interests at heart?”

Someone had found him a yukata only fractionally better-fit than the one he had shown up in, but much less purple. His collarbones looked sharp enough to cut glass with; he had rolled his sleeves up to bare pale, skinny forearms that were resting on top of his legs, relaxed.

Sakamoto laughed and sat down next to him, in the seat he thought of as Mutsu’s. “It’s almost like having you back to normal, Takasugi.”

The old Takasugi would smirk a bit more and wave his sword around as he talked, just because he could. This Takasugi sat straight in his chair and kept his green eyes fixed on Sakamoto’s face, never taking detours mid-conversation to observe shadows on the walls like they’d used to.

“You’re the only one who wishes I was him,” Takasugi observed. “What if I got stuck like this? Would you shuttle me around forever?”

“I’d have to sell my ship just to feed you, so no thanks!” Sakamoto spun his chair a little, his gaze stuck on the ceiling. Damn that Mutsu, she never told him she had a spinny chair. “Ah, and the Kiheitai won’t let us babysit their commander for so long. They’ll come pick you up from the daycare after they’re done with work, ahaha.”

“Some comrades they are,” Takasugi said. He was brooding, his nails digging vexed half-crescents where he was digging them into his palms. “Dumping me on you as soon as they couldn’t handle the situation.”

“You seem to like them fine,” Sakamoto said.

“Yeah, well, that’s because-”

Takasugi cut himself off, and looked up at Sakamoto through his lashes. He was so young, and fine-boned, and the green of his eyes looked softer when there was a pair of them.

“They’re alright,” Takasugi said. “They listen to me. But really,” he said, smiling crookedly, “you’re all I have, aren’t you, Tatsuma?”

Sakamoto only saw it coming because he knew what to watch out for. Takasugi leaned in and his hand came up to Takasugi’s shoulder, and pushed him away, firmly.

“No,” he said, and Takasugi turned betrayed eyes on him and his heart lunged. “Takasugi, no.”

“I thought you-” Takasugi said, and his voice almost cracked. He took a quick breath and said with more authority: “You were interested. In me.”

“Yes. _No-”_ Sakamoto yelped, because Takasugi leaned in again. “Not you. Um, ahaha. Not you, _you_.”

Takasugi chewed his lip, the way he always did when things didn’t go his way. He said, “Right,” and his green eyes shimmered like he was about to cry, out of humiliation or frustration or disappointment. It was like getting punched in the face and getting your teeth knocked out. Sakamoto remembered being seventeen all too well, his first great heartbreak feeling like stars falling out of the sky.

Sakamoto said, gently, “I’m not all you have. Zura and Kintoki, they’re alive and kicking, you know. Making all sorts of trouble back home.”

Takasugi’s narrow shoulders hunched up further. “I see,” he muttered, refusing to meet Sakamoto’s eyes.  

He didn’t look like he’d hold out for long. Sakamoto stopped trying to act mature; he reached out and gathered Takasugi to his chest, felt how small and light he was, and felt relieved and triumphant and terribly sad when Takasugi clung back fiercely.

*

Sakamoto slept badly and woke up to the sound of alarms.

“Took you long enough,” Mutsu said grimly when he staggered on deck. “The Kiheitai’s here for their captain. And they look like they’re going to take down half our fleet as a bonus. Takasugi must have contacted them in the night. That’s gratitude for ya.”

“Ahaha, Takasugi’s friends? Why don’t we invite them for a-”

The entire flagship shuddered as something rammed into it.

“Here they are,” said Mutsu.

They hurried towards the bow, and on the way, Mutsu asked, “Did something happen last night? Something that triggered Shinsuke -I mean, Takasugi, to turn back?”

Sakamoto said, “Maybe he picked something off the ground and ate it, ahaha! Takasugi, you bastard,” he added, raising his voice. “You eat me out of house and home and you don’t even compliment the chef? That’s no way for a samurai to behave!”

The figure at the railing stopped moving.

“Shinsuke,” urged Bansai.

And then Takasugi turned around, showy, bandages trailing in the wind, and then striding across the short distance between them on the deck. “My mistake,” he said, and laughter threaded his voice.  “And do send me the bill for the repairs to the ship, Tatsuma.”

“What are you planning, Takasugi,” Mutsu spat.

Takasugi said, looking straight at Sakamoto, “It wouldn’t do to let you get sick of me. After all, I plan on being a regular customer.”

He stopped walking only when he was practically standing on Sakamoto’s toes.

“I, uh. I’ll give you a discount,” Sakamoto rasped.

Takasugi crooked him a grin. “I’d hope so,” he said, and tugged Sakamoto’s head down for a kiss.

*

After the Kiheitai had disappeared into the horizon, Mutsu’s raised eyebrows became very loud.

“Do you think the girls at Snack Smile will miss me?”

She snorted. “I’m guessing you’d know better than me, Captain.”

Sakamoto looked at the stars. There were so many; nothing bad could happen if there were so many stars, when his lips were still stinging from Takasugi. If he met another big-eyed brat from ten years ago, he wouldn’t have much to say, besides: _it’s gonna be alright._

“Ahaha, I think it’ll all work out fine,” Sakamoto said. “These things always do.”

**Author's Note:**

> the next time I feel like writing sakasaka's pov, I'll just open my wrists with a ballpoint pen instead. it'll be quicker and far less painful. 
> 
> ahaha, thanks for reading!


End file.
